~ The View From Outside ~

The great hall, where the Royal Family would dine together, was an achingly long walk away from their bedroom. The servants escorted them through winding corridors and never ending hallways. They offered to carry the twins several times, but stopped after Aiden made it painfully clear that he would not allow any of them to touch Winter. As such, Winter was out of breath by the time they arrived.

Winter didn't mind the walk, it gave her a chance to appreciate her surroundings. It all felt surreal to her. The fact that pain and love could exist within the ink stained pages of a novel. The way every distinct detail was all too realistic, especially within the walls of the beautiful Palace. The fact that she was still alive.

Winter couldn't help but admire the Royal Palace. The high ceilings with deep golden archways and precisely carved woodwork were prepossessing. Every room was decorated with the finest arrangements of linens she had ever seen and every window's appearance varied with decorated panels all unique in their design. The Palace was several stories high with multiple balconies and a beautiful garden that stretched outback further than the eye could see. From its decorative elements to its carefully designed floor plan, the Palace radiated wealth from every corner possible.

The great hall was no exception. Like an architectural centrepiece, the hall was at least twenty feet high with swooping stone arcs and carvings. Carefully designed statues of angels welcomed them at every corner and the floor was tiled with specs of gold and silver. Winter could hardly believe such a place existed. In the middle of it all was a long table laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. An abundance of staff moved to and fro, carrying an assortment of dishes and sweets. The aroma of fruits and meat filled the air, making Winter's stomach growl with hunger.

"His Royal Highness and Her Royal Highness are entering," Someone called out into the vast space.

Aiden's grip tightened on her hand. The never ending movement had come to a stop and silence hung heavily in the air. Winter felt her stomach drop. She couldn't believe she was about to meet the family that had abandoned Winter in the story. Family had never been important to her, not even in her past life. In fact, in her past life she had grown up with no family at all. She wasn't even sure if she saw the King and Aiden's brothers as her family. She viewed them like she was reading a book. Like an outsider.

Her eyes met the man sitting at the head of the table. She studied his face carefully and found her gaze tracing over his high cheekbones and defined features. His eyes met hers and she found herself drowning in a cold sea of ice green. The colour that every member of the Royal family had. His golden hair fell in waves just above his ears and Winter found herself taken aback by how similar he looked to Aiden. King Caderyn Del Silvermond. She could tell by his sternly set jaw and dangerous aura. This was the man who abandoned her.

There were two other men sitting at the table. One of them had light brown hair that reminded Winter of hazelnuts. He smiled in response to her peeking at him and dimples deepened on both sides of his mouth. His smile was contagious and warming, and it gave Winter a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Winter couldn't remember much from the story, as most of her memories of it were now groggy and forgotten. She wasn't sure how to tell the difference between the two brothers. She sighed and glanced over at the man on the other side of the table.

The other man had hair that bordered between dark brown and black. His curls, unlike Aiden's, were well cared for and neat. Like the King, he had chiseled features and a cold mien. His face flushed red under her stare and he looked away hastily.

"Come here," King Caderyn called out to them.

Winter tightened her grip on Aiden's hand and pulled him towards the King. Most people would tremble under the King's gaze, but Winter felt nothing. Her eyes burned with green fire as she approached him. Perhaps it was because all the pain inflicted on her during her time spent in the attic had rendered her emotionless. Somehow, the King's dangerous aura had no effect on her whatsoever.

Or maybe it was because she viewed reality in a 2D way. For Winter, she viewed her passing days and life like pages in a book. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn't fully able to immerse herself into her reality. Even if she felt terrible pain or heartache, she was always withdrawn from what was happening around her.

Instinctively, Winter positioned herself in a way that shielded Aiden from the King. He watched them with observant eyes, devouring their every move and emotion.

"You," He asked her, "Why are you doing that?"

"I don't have to tell you that." Winter retorted condescendingly. He shot her an icy glare, but the girl didn't budge a single muscle.

"What are your names?"

Winter hesitated. "Winter and Aiden."

"Who gave you those names?" The King frowned.

"I did." She paused and shook her head. "No more questions. It's your turn to answer now."

For a second, the King's fiery eyes were washed over by a cool wave. His usual stern expression had softened and his eyes widened with a look of amusement. But just as soon as it came, it vanished.

"Why did you bring us here?" She asked him. "What are we to you?"

"Smart child," The King muttered. "I'm your father."

He watched the child with burning eyes expectantly, but her expression remained cold. She stared back at him with a clenched jaw and an icy disposition. Her face remained neutral, without a single hint of shock or surprise. It was almost as if she already knew.

"Aren't you surprised?" He asked her. Her reaction had piqued his interest.

"Why should I be?" She hissed venomously. "Those men said we were going to make them rich. They would've already killed us if we weren't valuable. The reason we went through all that was because of you. It was because your blood flows through our veins."

The King watched her unshakable expression. There was no doubt about it. From her silver hair and green eyes, to her cold and aggressive disposition. This child was his. How was this possible?

"Eat now," He said with a sigh. "We'll talk more later."

Winter could hardly believe it. The sight and aroma from the food was enough for her to momentarily let down her guard. She stuffed her face with all sorts of pastries and cakes that melted in her mouth. After years of eating rotten porridge and stale bread, she had forgotten that food could be enjoyable.

"My my," The man with hazelnut hair chimed from beside Winter. "Looks like my little sister loves sweet things. Brother Lysander will buy you lots of sweet things in the future, 'kay?"

"Thank you, Your Highness." She replied with a mouth full of chocolate cake.

"You're so cold, Winter." He frowned. "Call me big brother Lysander."

"No." She replied curtly without looking up from her plate full of sweets.

"Aiden will call me big brother. Right, Aiden?"

Aiden hesitated before searching for an answer in Winter's expression. The only person he had during his torturing time in the attic was Winter. He didn't want to hurt her by referring to someone else as his family. After all, the word "family" was something both him and Winter were extremely sensitive about. Aiden knew deep down that no relationship he would build with them would be equivalent to the one he has with his twin sister.

"You can call him big brother if you want," Winter told him when she noticed his solemn expression. "It's okay."

"B-Big brother..." Aiden said softly.

Even if she wanted to, Winter couldn't see Lysander or the King as her family. She watched them with distant eyes with a view from the outside. Even if they didn't abandon her in this timeline, she couldn't shake her feeling of heartache from Winter being left behind in the novel. For as long as she lived, Winter spent everyday thinking she was going to be abandoned.

Winter's stomach began to clench with a familiar feeling of pain. In between heaves, she cursed herself for eating so much. She tasted the bitter contents of her breakfast as they forcefully passed between her open lips. Her vomit hit the ground and soiled her gown, filling the air with a bitter stench.

It smelt like how she felt.